The Rejection
by roses in bloom
Summary: Neville doesn't love Hannah, but that doesn't mean she can't still try to make him happy! Cue her schemes to push Harry and Neville together using one of the oldest tricks in the book. Neville really should have kept his mouth shut. Non-canon compliant. Slash. Oneshot.


There was no easy way to say it. Despite his best attempts at civility there was only so much Neville could do to ease the heartache that would soon result.

"I'm sorry, Hannah," he murmured softly. "I don't think of you in that way."

"W-what?" Hannah Abbot sucked in a sharp breath as the rejection hung in the air. This wasn't how it was supposed to go!

Neville offered a faint consoling smile. "I'm sorry—I wish I could say the opposite."

"Then why don't you?" Hannah asked in hysterics. _What happened to the sweet boy she'd fallen in love with?_ _That boy would never turn her down! _

"I wish it was that simple. You are a wonderful girl, but… I love someone else."

Frozen in humiliation, Hannah could only swallow the outrage that threatened to ruin what faint friendship existed between them. She knew that Neville had never given sign of liking her more than his due, but she had been so sure that he would have seen the advantages in trying to love her. After all, Neville hadn't ever shown interest in anyone at school, and now in the last week of their seventh year, Hannah had figured she had nothing left to lose.

This, however, was not the outcome she'd predicted.

"I hope that she makes you happy then," Hannah managed to stiffly reply.

"Ahh… thank you- I guess."

There was a hesitance in his voice that made Hannah's skin prickle with unease for him—they were, after all, still friends. Or at least Hannah hoped.

"What do you mean by that? Doesn't she know that you love her?"

"Um, no. _He_ doesn't know."

"Oh," Hannah mumbled. "_**Oh**_," she repeated with increased clarity.

"Yes," Neville responded with a self-depreciating sigh. "I'm a poof."

"I think that- considering the circumstances- I'm rather glad you turned me down."

Neville chuckled with her, rubbing his neck self-consciously. Hannah smiled warmly, feeling all the fondness that she'd held for him begin to shift back to friendly concern.

"Who is it that you love, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I rather do mind," Neville protested, but seeing her resolved expression, he let up. "But," he admitted, "if I were to tell someone, I suppose that you would be the one to tell."

"…and?"

"Harry," Neville whispered with a wary glance at their surroundings.

Hannah started at the name, giving Neville an incredulous look. "Harry Potter?" she hissed out in question.

"Yes, but please keep your voice down," Neville asked with no little amount of panic, eying a group of students that were approaching them along the coast of the lake.

"Harry too-busy-snogging-Ginny-to-be-of-any-real-use-to-a nyone Potter?" Hannah took a deep breath in and clamped down on the urge to throttle his neck for stupidity. "You have _awful_ taste, Neville. Just _awful_."

"I know," Neville whined with little dignity. (Though he was in love with Harry-bloody-Potter, so that was to be expected really, Hannah reflected.) "He hasn't lately though!"

"You need help," Hannah added helpfully.

"It's hopeless, Hannah," he moped with a dark expression. "_I'm _hopeless!"

"Yes, you are," she agreed with a nod, "Terribly so. I'm quite glad to be done with you really."

Neville's eyes turned teary as he squeezed her hand painfully tight. "I'm a horrible person. I'm so sorry!"

"I know you are," Hannah consoled him with a steady voice. "It'll be alright though, Nev. I'll help you."

Neville's bottom lip wobbled dangerously for a moment—Hannah eyed it dubiously—before turning to a faint heart-rending smile. "You are a wonderful friend."

Hannah returned the smile, though hers was tinged with an ounce of heartbreak. She certainly hoped he would continue to feel that way when she shared her scheme with him...

"Hannah," Neville stated seriously a few minutes after he had listened to her plan, "This is an awful idea."

"Truth or Dare is a classic," Hannah protested with vehemence.

Neville sighed. "How am I supposed to get him to play? I can't just go up the dorm and suggest sleepover games!"

"Of course not, you're a poof- not a girl. No," she said with a wide grin, "You, my friend, are going to throw a party."

Neville gulped. He had a bad feeling about this.

* * *

The last Friday of term came and brought with it the fruition of Hannah's party plans. While those invited were shocked to have the invitation extended by Neville, they seemed amiable to discovering a different side to the unassuming Gryffindor and agreed to meet at the Gryffindor Common Room for the festivities.

By nine o'clock the senior members of the House had chased all but the most determined lower Years from the room, and the guests from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were beginning to arrive, being shuttled in through the Portrait in waves.

Hannah, having already completed a raid on the Kitchens for butterbeer and snacking foods, was peppering advice on Neville before the much anticipated round of Truth or Dare.

"Leave the tricky questions to me, understand?" Hannah fussed over him, ruffling his hair and wiping a smudge of ink from his cheek. A group of girls nearby giggled at the couple-like behavior, whispering the beginnings of rumors to circulate the school.

"I get it, I get it!" Neville stumbled away from his friend, swatting at her busy hands.

Hannah shot him a devious smile and swept away to greet some friends.

Clearing his throat nervously, Neville glanced around frantically for a friendly face to talk to. He felt out of place enough at parties without an extra plot being involved! Luckily—or perhaps, unluckily—a friend found him before he'd embarrassed himself.

Harry smiled in greeting, holding up his glass in mock toast to Neville. "Nice party, Nev—I didn't take you for all this." Harry gestured at the room. "Aren't a lot of these people Hannah Abbot's friends?"

"I know some of them," Neville protested, feeling his face begin to flush.

"I don't think you've spoken more than two words to the lot of them," Harry laughed. "Hey," he said after a moment had passed, "Are you feeling alright? You're kind of flushed."

"Just warm in here—er, all the people probably."

"Let me get you a butterbeer then."

Neville would have protested—he'd rather keep his wits, thank you very much—but Harry had gone and returned with his prize before Neville could even open his mouth. He saw Hannah wink and make kissing faces at him from across the room—an unknowing fodder to more gossip.

"Thanks," Neville struggled to say, accepting the drink and taking a small sip. The golden brew trickled down his throat, settling in his gut in warm comfort. Why was this a bad idea?

"Anytime," Harry returned with a smile.

An hour later, when people were sufficiently sloshed with butterbeer, Hannah made the announcement: "Truth or Dare! Gather around in a circle if you'd like to play!"

Neville glanced over from his conversation with Harry and Ron, who had arrived late courtesy of one of Hermione's library runs, only to blanch uncomfortably at the sheer amount of people joining the game.

Harry eyed him curiously. "Did you want to play, Neville?"

"Um," Neville replied intelligently.

Harry and Ron exchanged long glances until Ron smiled abruptly. "No secrets between friends, remember Harry?"

"Yes," Harry recited dully.

"Let's play then! You too, Neville."

Neville followed Ron dumbly, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Harry was close behind. They settled in the large circle as comfortably as could be expected on the hard floor with Hannah smiling dangerously in their direction.

"Here's how it works," Hannah told the group imperiously. "You'll spin the butterbeer bottle and when it lands on someone you get to ask-"

"Truth or Dare," the group caroused.

"Right, and if it's Truth and the person won't answer, they can take a Dare. Questions? Good- let's begin, shall we?"

Hannah spun the bottle vigorously, only frowning slightly when it landed on Ernie MacMillan. Accepting with resignation the call for 'Truth', she asked her friend who he liked, giggling madly when he refused with a red face.

"Dare it is!" Hannah cackled gleefully, scoping out the group for a suitable target for the dare. Her eyes stopped with interest upon Neville's companions.

"You'll kiss Harry then," Hannah supplied, knowing Ernie to be an unrepentant heterosexual and in no danger of challenging Neville's crush. Besides, it would be helpful to see Harry's reaction.

Ernie cringed, but crawled to Harry anyway, unwilling to lose face. "Sorry mate," he said with a shrug and leaned forward to deposit a peck of a kiss on Harry's lips.

Harry leaned away after the brief touch and wiped his mouth. "S'alright."

Neville briefly touched Harry's arm to see if he was really alright, but Harry avoided his eyes and then it was Ernie's turn.

The next thirty minutes passed quickly with people accepting dares and telling embarrassing truths. Neville himself felt rather lucky, only having had to answer Lavender what his relationship with Hannah was. Neville had felt rather silly telling that they were just friends, considering he didn't think it looked like anything else. Lavender did not seem satisfied at the admission.

A few turns later had Ron spinning the bottle that landed, to his surprise, on Harry's figure to his immediate left. Ron's smile looked a bit too much like Hannah's for Neville's taste.

"Truth or Dare, mate?" Ron asked.

"Ron," Harry murmured with a warning tone. "Truth," he sighed finally.

"Who here do you most want to kiss?" Ron answered promptly.

Harry swallow a few times and then protested hotly. "I can't answer that!"

"You can," Ron said calmly.

"I won't. Give me a dare."

"Fine," Ron stared unblinkingly at his friend. "I dare you to kiss the person that you most want to kiss here."

A hush fell over the group—technically Ron had broken the rules by reiterating the first question, but no one felt the urge to right the mistake.

"Ron, no-" Harry said harshly.

Ron took no pity, however. "You know why I'm doing this," he said to the astonishment of his audience. "You were never going to do anything about it."

"But-"

"Now or never, mate."

"Never then," Harry said with a whine.

"Erm—just now then I guess."

"Fine," Harry huffed in frustration, making a show of standing and moving to the center of the circle.

The group watched with bated breath as Harry gathered his courage at their center. Neville winced to himself, trying to ready himself for the image of Harry kissing someone. Ginny was just recently out of the picture… he didn't think he could handle anyone else!

But then, to Neville's everlasting surprise, Harry turned to Neville, offering a hand and pulling Neville to stand.

"Sorry, Nev—you don't mind do you?"

Neville barely had time to shake his head before Harry was kissing him. Lips parting automatically, Neville's head swam with sensation at the kiss. It was like butterbeer, he thought dreamily—warm, comforting, and it made him unsteady on his feet.

It was also over far too soon, and to his embarrassment, Neville found himself leaning forward to try and prolong it. Harry's eyes blinked in surprise at him behind his wire frames. After a stilted moment of time in which Neville's heart lodged in his throat and he began to panic, Harry smiled brightly and he swooped in to steal another kiss.

Behind them Ron and Hannah exchanged hearty slaps on the back as they congratulated their own cleverness.


End file.
